


Je te Pardonne

by lesbianwritingcorner



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, Underage Drinking, bc i love my girls, but I did it anyways, the ash/em fic nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianwritingcorner/pseuds/lesbianwritingcorner
Summary: Nine went up, two came down.They almost hate each other for surviving.





	Je te Pardonne

**Author's Note:**

> hi yeah ive tried to post this like three times and SOME BULLSHIT keeps happening so here it finally is  
> i wanted to write an ash/em fic bc,,,,there's like none and i love these girls so much??? also their relationship has intrigued me for a hot minute   
> pls enjoy,,,this is so long and so gay  
> not beta'd bc im a loser and wanted to get this posted so any mistakes are all my fault sorry

Nine had been up on Blackwood Mountain that night. 

 

Only two made it out alive.

 

Ashley couldn’t burn what she’d seen out her mind. No matter how hard she had tried, the images remained. Josh being sawed in half. Chris shooting her. Her frozen in fear, unable to open the door as the wendigo ripped his head from his neck. 

 

She was a murderer. 

 

She’d swore to the police that she heard Jessica’s voice calling to her in the mines. But she knew it couldn’t have been Jessica when they explained that Jessica was most likely dead. 

 

The wendigos did know how to mimic voices. 

 

She had attended seven funerals. 

 

None of which had bodies. 

 

Ashley had stayed close to her mother through every single one. She couldn’t bear to look at the faces of her friends’ grieving families. 

 

Chris’ was the worst. 

 

His parents had tried to talk to her, to console her. All she had given them with a pained smile and a nod. She had killed their son, whether directly or indirectly. She could’ve-no, she  _ should’ve _ -opened the door for him. But she couldn’t. The only motive was that Chris wasn’t to be trusted anymore. He wasn’t safe. He had almost  _ begged  _ Mike for the gun when the Flamethrower Guy had arrived at the lodge. 

 

She was convinced if given the chance, he would’ve killed them all to save his own skin. 

 

The guilt had weighed her down. She’d found her mothers sleeping pills after the last funeral; it was Sam’s. 

 

She’d swallowed the entire bottle without so much as an afterthought. 

 

She just wanted to sleep. She wanted everything to stop just for a moment. 

 

Instead, Ashley woke up in the hospital three days later to her sobbing mother who wouldn’t let her go no matter how many times she’d asked her to. 

 

Now, armed with a hefty diagnosis of PTSD and Bipolar I disorder, Ashley went to therapy three time a week. Her therapist was a nice older woman with greying hair and a fake smile, but she listened. And that was all Ashley needed. 

 

Everything was hard. Especially work. 

 

Her mother had insisted that she get a job, not only to help with the bills that had been piling up on the kitchen table, but to take her mind off everything. 

 

It didn’t. 

 

She stands at the counter, her eyes glazed over as she studies one of the TV’s mounted on the wall. The news drones on the TV. She turns her head away when an old white woman begins to talk about a murder that had taken place in downtown LA. Something about a custody battle. 

 

“Miss?”

 

Ashley snaps back into attention and glances up at the woman standing in front of her. 

 

“I’ve been waiting for my sandwich for ten minutes.” 

 

Ashley forces a smile on her face and nods. 

 

“I’m so sorry. We’re a little understaffed right now.”

 

“Hm.”

 

Ashley turns on her heel and walks back into the kitchen, standing up on her tiptoes to peer at one of the cooks. He bares a striking resemblance to Chris with his spiky blonde hair and oversized glasses. It makes her hurt to even look at him. 

 

“Hey, Thomas. Is that order almost done?”

 

The cook glances up at Ashley and gives her a small nod. He picks up a pair of tongs and turns to the oven, pulling the toasted sandwich out and beginning to package it. She waits patiently, watching his stubby fingers fumble with the wax paper as he wraps the food carefully and tucks it into a cardboard box. He hands it to her without a word and returns to his station. 

 

“Thanks,” she calls back to him as she rounds the corner to return to the counter. 

 

Then it happens. 

 

The ice machine was old. They had been meaning to fix it for years now, but as long as it wasn’t completely broken, why fix it? It let out a high-pitched, ear deafening whine whenever it attempted to make more ice, causing most employees to bitch and grumble as they banged on the metal walling in a desperate attempt to get it to quit. 

 

But not Ashley. 

 

It sounds so much like a wendigo. 

 

She freezes in her spot, chapped lips trembling in fear as the box in her hand falls to the ground. 

 

The lady’s face scrunches up in anger. She slams her hands on the counter as she yells at the young woman, but Ashley can’t hear anything she’s saying. 

 

All she can hear are the monsters. 

 

Her heart flutters in her chest as her manager sets a rough hand on her shoulder and studies her face. 

 

“Ashley, office. Now.”

 

Still stunned, she makes the walk of shame to the office and shuts the door behind her. 

 

She falls in a crumpled heap into one of the chairs, body shaking with sobs as her poorly applied makeup runs from her teary eyes. 

 

Her manager came in after an eternity. 

 

“Ashley, what the hell was that?”

 

She doesn’t respond. She pulls the sleeves of her shirt over her hands with her eyes glued to the floor. 

 

“I had to completely refund her food. I doubt she’ll be back. You know business is fucking scarce these days.”

 

Ashley’s mouth gapes open as she searches for an excuse. 

 

“I did your mom a favor hiring you. Don’t make me regret again, got it?”

 

She's able to manage a nod. Her manager sighs heavily, sitting down in the desk chair beside her. 

 

“Are you taking your meds?”

 

She nodded. 

 

“Regularly?”

 

Another nod. Her heartbeat slows to a normal pace, her sleeved hand moving up to clear the clumpy mascara from her cheeks. 

 

“Ashley, I know it’s hard. I was in the Army for a long ass time. I still wake up at night from the nightmares. I still see things that upset me. But when I’m here, when I’m working, I can’t let it get to me. And you shouldn’t either, okay?”

 

She felt like a fucking imbecile. 

 

“Yeah,” she choked out. Her manager gave her a soft smile and rested his hand on her shoulder. 

 

“You’re a good kid. Go ahead and go home early. Get some rest. Clear your mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

She pushes herself up out of the chair and books it out of the office. She clocks out at a breakneck speed and gathers her belongings from her locker, walking out behind the store. Her hands fumble in her bag for her cigarettes. 

 

It was horrible, she knew that. 

 

But she needed something to help clear her mind. 

 

She lit the end of her cigarette with a skull covered lighter, taking a long drag and exhaling the smoke through her nose. Her fingers skillfully untie her messy red hair from her ponytail. 

 

She glances down at her phone and her heart seizes in her chest. 

  
  


_ When are you off work?  _

 

Emily Davis. 

 

**\------**

 

Emily had never been vocal about her feelings. 

 

As a child, she cried all the time. It didn’t matter what happened. No matter how seemingless pointless the misfortunate event was, she didn’t know what else to do other than cry. 

 

That changed when her father died. 

 

She remembered being thirteen at her father’s closed-casket funeral. Her mother’s arm was wrapped tightly around her as they watched the man they both loved be lowered six feet into the earth. 

 

Her mother led her back to the car, unable to look at her daughter’s tear-soaked face as they drove home. 

 

“We need to be strong. Your father would want us to be strong. He wouldn’t want us to be crying and moping and missing out on what life has given us,” her mother had told her-no, demanded of her-on that ride back home. 

 

So, she didn’t cry. 

 

She didn’t even cry at her closest friends funerals. Not even at Matt’s. Her boyfriend and her closest friend’s service had been filled with wailing relatives and grim-faced friends. 

 

She left as soon as it was over. 

 

But Matt’s wasn’t the hardest. She loved Matt, but never in the way she made people believe. 

 

Jessica’s crushed her spirit the most. 

 

Rumors had spread through the group of her and Mike’s breakup, something she had done to spare them both the impending heartache. But before she could confess to her best friend everything she had always, and would ever feel about her, Jessica got with her ex boyfriend without even batting an eye. 

 

So Emily got with Matt. 

 

She had felt all the breath leave her body when she had approached Jessica’s casket. A few tears escaped her eyes freely when she placed Jessica’s old flask she had gifted Emily their senior year into the empty casket. 

 

“You’ll need it if Mike’s with you,” she had whispered. 

 

She was out the door before her mother could catch up with her. 

 

Emily had always been the social butterfly of the group. 

 

Now all she wanted was to be alone. 

 

The loneliness is sickening. Before this, she had a social life. She hung out with friend at least one a day. Now? Making it out the door is a huge step for her. 

 

Which is why she’s shocked when she texts Ashley. 

 

Her and Ashley were never close. They had been friendly with one another, sure. But they were two completely different people. 

 

But even so, Ashley survived too. 

 

And Emily almost hates her for it. 

Her fingers speed over the letters. 

 

_ When are you off work? _

 

It was simple and straightforward. She sends the message without a second thought and goes back to watching some obscure documentary on Netflix. 

 

Her phone buzzes 30 or so minutes later. She feels her heart thump loudly as she picks up her phone and read the message. 

 

_ i just got off whats up  _

 

Emily swears to herself. What does she say? ‘ _ Hey Ash, I’m really fucking lonely. Do you want to watch movies and cry about our shared trauma together?’ _

 

God. She’s a moron. 

 

_ Just wanted to know if you wanted to grab coffee or something if you’re free. My treat.  _

 

She holds her breath as she waits for a response. She watches as Ashley reads her message, starts typing, and then stops. 

 

Emily feels her chest squeeze painfully. She knew it. 

 

An uneven breath escapes her lips and she turns back to her TV, swallowing the lump of tears forming in her throat. 

 

And then- _ ding! _

 

Her phone lights up with a new message. 

 

She picks her phone up a little too quickly and sighs in relief. 

 

_ sure thing. can u come get me im a loser who still cant drive  _

 

Another message. 

 

_ if not its chill  _

 

She jumps up and texts a swift reply. 

 

_ I can come get you, no problem. Be there in 15.  _

 

Emily struggles for a moment with a pair of skinny jeans and a fashionable red sweater, slipping on her boots as she gathers her purse and heads for the door. 

 

Her mother is curled up in the recliner in the living room, her cat sprawled out on her lap asleep. She goes to say something to Emily as she hurries out the door, but stops. 

 

Emily slams the door shut behind her without a word and hurries down her apartment stairs. She trips a couple of times, but gathers herself as she unlocks her Jeep and slides into the drivers side. 

 

She turns the fifteen minute drive to Ashley’s work into a seven minute drive. 

 

She pulls around back, eyes scanning the lot for Ashley. She spots the girl on the curb, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Her head snaps up as Emily pulls up beside her, gathering her things as she walks up to the car. Ashley opens the door and stares inside the car. Emily can see the bags under her eyes that the sleepless nights have caused her. 

 

“Can I smoke in here?,” she asks quietly, going to put her cigarette out. Emily shakes her head. 

 

“No, you’re fine. Can I bum one?”

 

Ashley nods as she steps up into the car. She digs around in her backpack for what seems like an eternity before she hands Emily her pack. Their fingers brush for a moment as Emily takes the pack from her, pulling out a smoke and handing the pack back to Ashley. Before she can ask for a light, Ashley hands her a skull-covered lighter and turns away. 

 

Emily lights the cigarette, enjoying the first, long drag as she hands the lighter back to Ashley. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Ashley doesn’t respond. 

 

In fact, she doesn’t say a single word the entire drive to the Starbucks by Emily’s apartment. 

 

The radio drones on a classic rock song as Emily pulls up to the shop, turning off her car and opening the door. She waits for Ashley to exit the vehicle before locking her car and throwing her keys into her purse. 

 

Ashley walks beside her silently. Her eyes are glued to the ground. She doesn’t notice the step up to the entrance and trips on the curb, almost falling on her face before Emily catches her. 

 

“Ashley, there’s a step there.”

 

“Let go of me, please.”

 

Emily complies and walks ahead of her into the Starbucks. 

 

**\-----**

 

Ashley never liked coffee before the night on Blackwood Mountain. It tasted bad, it smelled bad, and it made her jittery and paranoid. 

 

Now she basically lives off it. 

 

She watches as Emily returns to their table with their coffees in hand. 

 

“Here.” 

 

She hands Ashley her coffee before sitting across from her. She watches Ashley with a keen eye before sipping her latte and looking away from the redhead. 

 

Ashley presses her nose to the top of the cup, inhaling the sweet smell of caffeine before taking a sip. She winces as it burns the roof of her mouth. 

 

“I think we need to talk.”

 

Emily’s voice brings her back. Her eyes travel up to the older girl’s face. Her mouth is pressed in a thin line and her eyes are cold. 

 

“A-About what?,” she stammers out. Great. Emily invited her here to bitch at her in public. 

 

“You know what.” 

 

Ashley feels her stomach churn. Not here, not  _ now.  _ She takes a steadying sip of her coffee and scrapes up whatever courage she has left as she meets Emily’s harsh gaze. 

 

“I don’t really…” She gathers herself and continues. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Em.” 

 

Emily narrows her eyes. 

 

“Our friends are dead.” 

 

It’s a punch straight to the gut. 

 

“Yeah,” she replies, barely audible. 

 

“Our boyfriends are dead.”

 

“Chris...wasn’t my boyfriend.”

 

Emily rolls her eyes and scoffs. 

 

“Quit with the fucking technicalities. He basically was.” 

 

Ashley feels her stomach knot up and cave on on itself. She stares down at her coffee and lets out a defeated sigh. Her lip quivers as she goes to speak, but Emily cuts her off. 

 

“You’re the only person I have.”

 

She’s shocked. In her 5 years of knowing Emily, she had never heard such a raw statement leave her mouth. 

 

“Y-Yeah.”

 

Emily takes an annoyed sip of her latte and leans forward. 

 

“And you tried to have me  _ killed _ ,” she hisses. 

 

Ashley scoots away from the table. Her heart slams to a screeching halt in her chest as she searches for words. 

 

“Emily, please, I-I don’t-”

 

Before she knows it, her bag is in her hand and she’s running out the door. 

 

It’s a long walk to her house. 

 

**\---------**

 

She fucked up. 

 

Emily watches as Ashley sprints out the door, a handful of patrons turning to glance in her direction. She scowls. 

 

“What are you looking at? Fuck off.” 

 

They turn away. 

 

She puts her head in her hands and curses herself under her breath. Why did she say that? Why did she say any of those things? She was going to bring Ashley here, apologize, talk things out. 

 

Instead she was a cold-hearted bitch. 

 

What’s new. 

 

She picks up her and Ashley’s abandoned coffees and chucks them in the trash, trudging out the front door and to her Jeep. She steps inside and turns on her car. The sun has started to sink over the horizon, filling the car with a soft orange glow. 

 

She can’t let her walk home in the dark. 

 

Without a second thought she throws the car into reverse and speeds towards the direction of Ashley’s house. 

 

She weaves through heavy traffic, her eyes peeled for the short redhead. 

 

She only has to drive a couple of blocks before she sees Ashley on a bench, her soft face red and puffy from crying. She’s on the phone. 

 

Emily switches lanes and pulls up beside her. 

 

Ashley’s head jerks up and she puts down her phone. Her face falls immediately at the sight of Emily as she rolls her window down. 

 

“My mom’s coming to get me.”

 

“Ashley-”

 

“My mom’s on her way. Go home, Emily.”

 

She feels anger overcome her again. 

 

“Get in the fucking car Ashley.”

 

Ashley looks stunned. Tears well up in her eyes as she begins to walk away from the car. Emily follows her. 

 

“Ashley, listen. I’m-I’m fucking upset, okay? It’s no excuse, but I just-” She’s cut off by the sounds of horns behind her, a few angry drivers yelling at her to speed up. 

 

She doesn’t. 

 

“You’re the only person who knows what I’m going through. Nobody else. And I just-I  _ need  _ someone to understand right now. I  _ need  _ it. So can you please just get in the fucking car?”

 

Ashley stops and turns to her. She looks the angriest Emily has ever seen her. 

 

“Go fuck yourself Emily,” she whimpers. She turns around and goes back to the bench. Her knuckles are white with rage as she flops down and gets back on the phone. 

 

Emily swallows hard and speeds off, flipping a U-Turn at the next light. 

 

She has a bottle of vodka waiting for her at home. 

 

**\-----**

 

Her mother doesn’t speak to her the entire ride home. 

 

She clutches her backpack to her chest. Her tears have dried by now, making her face stiff and sticky. 

 

She just wants to shower and scrub her skin raw. 

 

Her mother pulls into their driveway. She lets the car idle for a few minutes before killing the engine. 

 

The two silently walk up the rickety wooden steps into the house. Her mother unlocks the door, setting a gentle hand on Ashley’s back as she leads her into the house. Her mother breaks the silence once they’re inside. 

 

“Frank called me today.”

 

Ashley feels her heart sink. 

 

“I’m fine, mom,” she lies. Her mother shakes her head. 

 

“No, you’re not. Ashley, if you’re having episodes again, we can tell Dr.-”

 

“Mom, I’m fine. It was a one time thing. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Please?”

 

Her mother sighs. 

 

“Get some rest, Ashley.” 

 

Ashley pushes past her mother and walks down the hallway to her room. She slams the door behind her, throwing her bag onto her cluttered desk. It doesn’t take long before the tears are back. She rips off her work uniform and falls face-first onto her bed. She grabs her ratty old pillow and screams into it with every ounce of energy she has left in her. 

 

She stops after a while, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip as she attempts to compose herself. She can’t. 

 

Her thoughts are moving too fast. 

 

Ashley feels her teeth cut into her bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. She whimpers quietly as she stands up with shaky legs. In a swift motion she lifts up her mattress, her hand feeling around between the mattress and boxspring for her best coping mechanism. 

 

Her fingers brushes against a plastic baggie and something glass. She pulls both out from beneath the mattress, letting it fall back down with a  _ thump.  _

 

She always thought drugs destroyed people’s lives. 

 

She sits backs down on her bed, resting her pipe in her lap as she breaks apart a nug of weed between her fingers. She skillfully packs the bowl to the brim, retrieving a gold lighter from beside her bed. 

 

It only takes three hits before her mind clears. 

 

She smokes the entire bowl, eyes bloodshot from the high and her tears as a sad smile crosses her face. 

 

“Chris, I’m a bad kid now.” 

 

**\-------**

 

Vodka wasn’t her favorite drink. 

 

She preferred tequila, or rum. 

 

Vodka burned. But then again, there was a part of her that liked it. 

 

Emily sits on her bed, a small bottle of strawberry vodka in her palm. She had already drank half of it. The cranberry juice she had used to chase it was long gone, so she settled for taking it straight. 

 

Her body feels numb and tingly as she reaches for her phone without thinking and dials. 

 

It didn’t even ring. 

 

_ We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang the phone up and try again.  _

 

She talks anyway. 

 

“Jess, Jessica,” she whispers into the phone. 

 

The dial tone was deafening. 

 

“Jess, m’so fuckin pissed you died before we both confessed our love to e’other and had hot lesbian sex.” 

 

She drops her phone and begins to sob. 

 

She hadn’t cried like this since her mother had told her her father died. 

 

“Jessica…god. M-M’sorry I-I ove’acted ‘bout Mike. I didn’t e-even  _ like  _ Mike. Or Matt.” 

 

She picks up her discarded bottle and unscrews the cap with some effort. She takes a large swig, coughing as the vodka burns a path from her throat to her stomach. 

 

“I l-loved you, Jess.” 

 

Emily clumsily picks up her phone. She had to try again. The room spins as she dialed Ashley’s number. She holds the phone up to her ear and prays she would answer. 

 

It only took two rings. 

 

“Yeah?,” Ashley murmurs. She sounded half-asleep. Emily didn’t even care if she had woke her up. 

 

“Ash, Ashleeeeeeeey,” she drawls out into the phone. 

 

“Emily, I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she mumbles, static crackling through the speakers as she heard what she would assume was Ashley sitting up in bed. 

 

She feels herself begin to cry again before she could stop it.

“Ashleeeeeeey, listen,” she pleads, sniffing loudly as she takes another large swig of the vodka. She coughs and wheezes as she feels her stomach lurch, some of the harsh drink spilling out of her mouth and onto her bare chest. 

 

“M’so so so so so sorry I said all those m-mean things t’you. I jus’ want us to b-be there for ea’other,” she manages to choke out between violent sobs. 

 

The line goes silent. Emily thinks Ashley has hung up on her before she hears a loud, drawn out sigh. 

 

“Emily, you’re drunk.” 

 

“N-No I’m fuckin’  _ not _ ,” Emily protests, holding the bottle against her chest. “I’m stone col’ sober.” 

 

“Right. Well, I’m going to get off here. Call me back when you’re sober, please.” 

 

“Ashley,  _ please,” _ she begs pathetically. She balances the bottle in her lap as she roughly wipes the hot tears from her face. “I-I need y-you.” 

 

“Emily, stop.” 

 

“A-Ash-”   
  
“ _ Stop.  _ I’m not talking to you while you’re drunk. Call me tomorrow.” 

 

Ashley hangs up before Emily could get another word out. 

 

She stares down at the bottle in her lap. Her lips quiver as she chugs the rest. 

 

**\------**

 

It was the longest shift of her life. 

 

Ashley clocks out a few minutes after noon, untying her hair as she retreats into the back to grab her bag. She slings it over her shoulder without saying a word to Frank on her way out. 

 

She plops down on the curb and pulls out her cigarettes. She removes the last one in the pack and lights it up, taking a drag so drawn out she coughs harshly, spitting a little off to the side. 

 

She grabs her phone to text her mother for a ride. 

 

But something compells her to text Emily instead. 

 

_ hey hope u didn’t die of alcohol poisoning last night  _

 

She sends the message. She sends another as a second thought. 

 

_ i’m sorry i was a total ass to you last night. just when people get drunk they aren’t really like...coherent??? we need to talk about yesterday thought that was rough yikes  _

 

She takes a few more drags off her cigarette and stares at her phone. 

 

Thirty minutes and three cigarettes out of her newly bought pack go by before Ashley receives a response. 

 

_ Haha. Not dead. Wish I was the way this fucking hangover’s treating me.  _

 

Another follows before Ashley can blink. 

 

_ My mom’s gone on a business trip if you want to come over. I can come get you.  _

 

Ashley drops her phone into her lap and rubs her temple with her free hand. She finishes off her cigarette and sighs heavily. 

 

_ sounds groovy i’m at work per usual lmao _

 

_ Groovy?? It’s 2015 Ashley.  _

 

_ are you going to come pick me up or judge my lingo _

 

_ Both. Omw.  _

 

Ashley lights up another cigarette and reclines back on the curb. The door to her work opens, Thomas emerging with a box of food in his hand. He turns to Ashley and gives a small wave as he walks to his car. He stops in his tracks and turns to her. 

 

“Do you need a ride? It’s hot.” Ashley shakes her head. 

 

“I’m good. My friend’s on her way.” Thomas nods and unlocks his truck, climbing inside and driving away. 

 

Emily pulls up a few minutes later. Ashley gets into her Jeep without speaking a single word, buckling up and looking out the window. 

 

The drive is sickeningly silent. Emily didn’t even have her radio on to ease the tension in the air. Ashley catches a few sneaky glances at her while she drives, studying her expression. 

 

She’s never seen Emily look so sad. 

 

Ashley reaches into her bag and offers her a cigarette. Emily accepts it and Ashley’s lighter wordlessly. 

 

Eventually Emily pulls into her apartment complex, parking in front of a building that reads 6117. They stepp out of the car together, Emily walking ahead of her and up the stairs. She unlocks the door and holds it open for Ashley before closing and locking it behind her. 

 

She’d never been to Emily’s apartment before. It was tidy and stiff. Ashley was afraid to sit down; she might break something. Emily tosses her purse onto the table and beckons Ashley down the hall.

 

“My room’s down here.” 

 

Ashley follows her, catching glimpses of family photos that lined the walls. A man Ashley had never seen before was present in most of them. In one, a young girl was on his shoulders, her chubby little arms wrapped around his neck. He pretended to be choking. Bright smiles were on both their faces. She hugs her bag to her chest and keeps walking. 

 

Emily opens a door covered in miscellaneous posters and walked inside. Ashley walks behind her and goes to close the door. Emily shakes her head. 

 

“You can leave it.” 

 

She releases the knob and looks around Emily’s room. 

 

It was tidier than Ashley’s room could ever hope to be. Band posters, polaroid pictures, and tapestries line the walls. A salt lamp sits on a immaculately clean desk, and incense is burning by the semi-cracked window. Ashley feels herself smile a bit. 

 

“Your room’s cool,” she attempts. Emily looks over at her and sits on her bed. 

 

“I know.” 

 

Ashley searches for a place to sit. Em pats  the spot beside her on the bed. 

 

“You can sit here if you want. Or there’s a chair over there. But if Princess comes in, you’ll have to give it up.” 

 

Ashley walks over to the chair and  sits down carefully. She watches as Emily pulls off her shoes, her sweater following suit. She turns away, but feels her eyes traveling back. 

 

Emily had an amazing body. 

 

But her eyes are immediately drawn to her scar. 

 

The bite wound from the wendigo had healed horrifically. The scar was deep and dark, and she could still see places where Emily had scratched at it, causing it to reopen and scab. She speaks before she could think. 

 

“Em, I’m so sorry.” 

 

Emily looks confused for a split second before she tracks Ashley’s gaze. Her hand flies up to her neck and her face twists in a grimace. 

 

“For what?”

 

Ashley swallows hard. 

 

“You were right.” 

 

Emily turns back to her, mouth agape slightly in shock. Ashley continues. 

 

“Mike could’ve shot you.” 

 

The other girl turns to face Ashley. 

 

“Yeah. He almost did.” 

 

“I know. A-And I almost made him do it.” 

 

Emily’s eyes grow cold. 

 

“Yeah. You did.” 

 

“I was just…I saw what it did to Chris, Em. It ripped his head right off, and I-I was just so scared, and I didn’t want you to turn into  _ that  _ and hurt everyone and I-”

 

“God, Ashley. You’re so full of shit.” 

 

Her heart drops into her stomach. 

 

“Emily, I-”

 

“I could have  _ died.  _ For no fucking reason. Do you understand that? I could’ve been killed. And you were right along with him. ‘Oh God oh God Em you’re gonna turn into one and oh my Gooooood! Kick her out Mike before she turns and kills us!’” She stands up from the bed and walks closer to the girl. “You know, when you saw the bite and freaked, at first I thought you were actually   _ worried _ about me. I thought you actually fucking gave a shit about somebody other than yourself for once.” She gets closer. “But no. I should’ve known better. You fucking killed Chris.” 

 

It was the first time somebody other than herself had said it aloud.

 

“You know it’s true. You locked him out of the lodge. And for what? Because he wouldn’t fuck you? Or did he get bitten too, and you were trying to save us from him? You’re not a fucking hero, Ashley. You’re a coward.” 

 

Ashley stares back at Emily, a white, hot rage growing in the pit of her stomach. 

 

“He shot me.” 

 

Emily laughs. It’s bitter and cold. 

 

“Bullshit.” She starts to walk away. Ashley stands up and grabs her arm, yanking her back towards her. 

 

“Josh rigged up a trap when he posed as the crazy psycho killer. He gave Chris a choice. To shoot me, or shoot himself. He told me ‘Ashley I won’t let you die!’ And th-then he shot me.” 

 

Emily looks down at her. Her angry expression begins to melt. 

 

“The gun was loaded with blanks. So either way, nobody would’ve died. But if it was? I’d be dead. So, yeah. I know what it’s like to almost be killed by somebody you th-thought loved you.” 

 

She releases Emily’s arm and sinks back into the chair. 

 

“I’m sorry Emily. I’m sorry Mike almost shot you. I’m sorry I almost got you killed. But don’t-” She takes a breath to steady herself. “Don’t stand here and act like you’re the only person who went through absolute hell up there. Because I did too. You said it yourself. We ne-need each other.”

 

Ashley looks up at Emily, eyes misty with forming tears. 

 

“I need you.” 

 

**\------**

 

Emily stares down at Ashley as she cries. Her heart is heavy with conflicting emotions. She never knew what happened between Chris and Ashley. She never knew. 

 

She kneels down in front of her and nervously takes Ashley’s hands in her own. Ashley starts to pull away, but Emily tightens her grip. 

 

“I…I never knew. I’m sorry that happened. Really.” 

 

Ashley nods and sniffles. She stares down at Emily’s hands. 

 

“I just wants things to be okay,” she whispers. 

 

On an impulse, Emily releases Ashley’s hands and wraps her arms around the small girl. She feels Ashley tense from her touch. Her rigidity doesn’t last long, and soon Ashley’s hugging her back and bawling into her shoulders. 

 

Emily holds her tightly against her, struggling to keep her own tears at bay. 

 

“M-Me too. But, I forgive you Ashley. I…I forgive you.”

 

A memory pierces through her subconscious and rears its ugly head. The wendigos breaking into the lodge. Emily running in fear, and shoving Ashley as hard as she can into the doorframe.

 

She was no better than Ashley. 

 

That could’ve killed her. 

 

“A-And I’m sorry I pushed you. You could’ve died too. I could’ve killed you.” 

 

She feels Ashley tense again. 

 

“I forgive you too Em.” 

 

They sit like that for what feels like hours. Ashley eventually pulls back, feebly wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Emily lets out a small sigh and cups her face in her hand, using her thumb to brush away the tears. 

 

“You’re such a mess, Ashley.” 

 

Ashley snorts. 

 

“You’re not the picture of mental health either, Em.” 

 

“I never said I was.” 

 

The two share a small laugh before being interrupted. A small sphinx cat in a tiny knitted sweater trots into the room, meowing loudly as she heads for the chair Ashley is occupying. Emily smirks, stands up, and gently helps Ashley to her feet. 

 

“You were serious?”

 

“Of course I was. That’s Princess’ chair.” 

 

Her and Ashley make their way to Em’s bed. Emily lets Ashley sit down first, watching as she takes her shoes off before crossing her legs. Her socks are barely even that; they’re covered in so many holes Emily isn’t sure how they stay on her feet. 

 

“Ashley, darling, you need new socks,” Emily comments as she sits beside her on the bed. Ashley blushes bright red. 

 

“No I don’t. I can still wear them.” 

 

“Barely.” 

 

“If you’re going to judge my socks then I’ll go home.”

 

“Okay, okay. Shit, you’re so touchy.” 

 

Ashley sighs and leans her head on Emily’s shoulder. Emily feels her heart rate speed up, gently scooting away and grabbing her TV remote. 

 

“Do you like documentaries?”

 

**\------**

 

“Jeez, I knew SeaWorld was messed up.” 

 

“Right?”

 

It had become a daily occurance. Every day after work, Ashley found herself at Emily’s apartment. They didn’t do much. Just watched whatever Emily put on her TV, which was more often than not some sort of documentary she’d discovered on Netflix. Ashley got high, Emily drank, it was a good time. 

 

Ashley knew her feelings were beginning to get the better of her. 

 

She usually stayed the night. Emily would always complain it was too late to take Ashley home, but Ashley knew better. 

 

She was lonely. 

 

When Emily turned off her light and got under the covers, Ashley waited until she was asleep to cuddle up next to her, wrapping her small arms around the girls warm, soft body and holding her close. She enjoyed the comfort of another person. 

 

She would always wake up first in the morning. Emily was always turned towards her, her hair a messy halo around her face. When would start to stir, Ashley would turn away in a hurry and pretend to have just woken up. She didn’t want her to catch her looking. She’d think Ashley was a creep and send her home. 

  
Ashley knew she was falling in love with her. 

 

And she hated it.

 

Emily smirks while Ashley’s lost in thought. She leans close to her, her hot breath on Ashley’s ear. 

 

“What are you thinkin’ ‘bout?”

 

Ashley flinches and shakes her head. 

 

“Just uh, how  _ messed  _ up SeaWorld is.” 

 

“No, I know that look.”

 

“What look?”

 

“Tha’s the ‘’m having gay thoughts’ look.”

 

Fuck. She’d been caught. 

 

“I wasn’t having gay thoughts, Em.” 

 

“I beg t’differ.” 

 

Emily grabs her drink and downs the rest of it in one big gulp. She crawls back over to Ashley, placing her head in her lap. Ashley feels like face tint bright red. 

 

“Hi Em.” 

 

“Why’s your face s’red?” Ashley clears her throat nervously. 

 

“I’m just getting kinda hot,” she stammers out. Emily grins. 

 

“Hot and bothered? Does this turn you on?”

 

It takes everything in her not to scream. 

 

“Emily, I-”

 

“Were y’having gay thoughts about  _ me _ ?”

 

Ashley wants to curl up and disappear. She settles for leaning back on the bed instead, letting at a yelp as she slides off Emily’s bed and onto the floor. 

 

“Ash?!”

 

Ashley groans and sits up, rubbing her head. 

 

“I’m good, I’m good.” 

 

“Hehe. You’re too gay t’function,” Emily slurs out. Ashley gathers herself and stands up. She considers asking to leave before Emily interupts her. 

 

“It’s s’okay Ash. I’d be in love with m’too if I wasn’t already me.”

 

Ashley snorts and sits back beside Emily on the bed. 

 

“I-I’m not i-”

 

“Don’t lie t’me.” 

 

Emily turns to face her, drunkenly resting her forehead against Ashley’s. Ashley smiles. 

 

“You’re real drunk, huh?”

 

“Not even. M’feelin’ perfect.”

 

“Well, you  _ are  _ perfect.” 

 

Ashley curses herself internally. 

 

Why is she like this? 

 

Emily smiles, a giggle escaping her lips as she cups Ashley’s face clumsily. 

 

“I like you, Ash.” 

 

Ashley feels her face warm. 

 

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.” 

 

“No, m’honest when m’drunk. And I  _ like  _ you. You’re cute and funny and sweet, and if anyone ‘ver hurts you I’ll kick their ass.” 

 

Ashley can’t help it. She laughs gratefully, wrapping her arms around Emily and embracing her. 

 

“Well, cool. Because I like you too.” 

 

It’s what happens next that startles her. 

 

Emily begins to cry. 

 

She’s never seen Emily cry. And it’s the intensity of her sobs that scares her. Emily jerks away from her touch and covers her face with her hands. 

 

“Em?”

 

Emily gasps for air, her hands traveling from her face in favor of imbedding her fingers in her black hair. 

 

“I mi-miss Jess,” she wails. 

 

Emily’s grief is almost overwhelming. 

 

And Ashley makes it worse. 

 

“I thought you hated Jess,” she treads carefully, not wanting to strike a nerve. Emily cries harder. 

 

“I  _ lo-loved _ Jess. I loved her more than ’ve ever loved anyone else in t’world.” Her breaths come out in ragged gasps as she tries to calm herself down. “I b-broke up with Mike t’get with Jess. And th-then she went and ran to him.” 

 

Ashley leans forward and sets a cautious hand on Emily’s back. She doesn’t try to speaki again. 

 

“I got with Matt t’make her jealous. But she loved Mike. I-It wasn’t gonna work. I didn’t ‘ven  _ like  _ Matt. He w-was like m’brother or something.” She shudders as tears stream down her face. “I want Jess back,” she whimpers. 

 

Ashley pulls her close to her, stiffening as Emily drunkenly sobs into her chest. She lets out an uneasy breath. 

 

“As screwed up as it is, I miss Chris,” she admits. “He was willing to shoot me, and I still miss him.” She feels tears prick her eyes. She blinks them away. She needed to be strong one right now. “He was my best friend. And I thought he loved me. But I guess I was wrong. I usually am.” She feels Emily’s breathing begin to even out. 

 

“I hope Jess doesn’t hate  _ me _ .” 

 

Ashley closes her eyes and steadies herself. 

 

“Emily, why would Jess hate you?”

 

“I said s’many fucked up things to her. I was jus’ so fuckin’ jealous, and upset and…I jus’ hope she didn’t die hating me.” 

 

“I don’t think Jess ever hated you. I think she was just hurt.” 

 

“I was too.” 

 

“I know Em. I know.” 

 

Emily pulls away and wipes her eyes. She scrunches her nose up at the makeup that smears on her hands. 

 

“Ugh I pro’ly look like a fuckin’ raccoon.” Ashley smirks. 

 

“A cute raccoon.” 

 

“Uggggggggh. Stop’t.” Emily smiles weakly at Ashley and yawns, stretching her arms over her head. She swings her legs over the bed and stands up. Her steps to her bathroom are shaky, and Ashley holds herself back from helping her. 

 

“‘ll be right back,” Emily calls over her shoulder. She shuts the door to her bathroom, leaving Ashley in the room alone. She exhales and rests her chin on her chest. How did everything end up like this? How did she end up with Emily? How did they end up friends? Or something more? Her thoughts come and go as she sits on her friends’ bed and tries to wrap her head around their situation. 

 

“Ashley?”

 

She lifts her head up at Emily’s voice. 

 

“Hmm?” 

 

Emily stands in the doorway of her bathroom, leaning against the doorframe. She isn’t wearing any clothes, and her hand is braced against the frame to keep her upright. Ashley’s face flushes scarlet as she looks away to give her drunk friend some privacy. 

 

“You’re off work tomorrow, right?”

 

“Yeah, it’s my one day off.” 

 

“You wanna, like...do somethin’?” 

 

“Like what?”

 

“I dunno. Somethin’. Other than get fucked up an’watch Netflix. ” 

 

Ashley hesitates. She slowly returns her gaze back to Emily, who has thrown on an old band shirt. Her face is soft and hopeful, and whether it’s from the alcohol or not, it sways Ashley’s emotions. 

 

“Sure.”  Emily smiles and crawls back onto her side of the bed. 

 

“Cool.” 

 

“Cool.” 

 

Emily fumbles for the switch on her bedside table lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. She relaxes into the bed, turning towards Ashley. Ashley lays next to her. 

 

“Thanks for bein’ here for me,” Emily mumbles sleepily.

 

“Ditto.” 

 

They fall asleep as they usually do, locked in a tight embrace. 

 

It’s the best way to fend off the nightmares. 

 

**\----**

Twenty minutes into Emily’s ‘plans’ with Ashley, she realizes she’s made a mistake. 

 

Shopping with Ashley is like pulling teeth. 

 

“Ashley, come on out.” 

 

“No! I look like a freaking idiot.” 

 

“If you don’t get your ass out here in three seconds, I’ll come in there myself. And it won’t be pretty.”

 

“Ugh, fine.” 

 

Ashley unlocks the door to the dressing room, arms crossed over her chest as she stares Emily down. She’s wearing a black mini-skirt with a matching low-cut black top, though Ashley’s crossed arms are obscuring the view. Emily scoffs. 

 

“Uncross your arms.” 

 

Ashley opens her mouth to protest, but Emily shoots her a quick glare that shuts her up instantly. The redhead complies and lets her arms rest by her sides. Emily looks the girl over, feeling an unwanted blush cross her cheeks. 

 

“You’re getting that,” Emily insists. Ashley’s eyes grow wide. 

 

“Em, I can’t really-”

 

“I’ll get it for you. You need good clothes Ashley.” Ashley bites her lip hesitantly. 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

“Positive. And get some new fucking socks too,  _ please. _ ”

 

They shop for a few more hours, both girls armed with bags of clothes. Emily takes them for coffee at the same Starbucks they met at a few weeks prior. Ashley breaks the silence first. 

 

“Thanks for today. It was nice.” Emily smiles. 

 

“Of course.” 

 

They finish off their coffees in awkward silence. Emily was never good at signals, but she isn’t oblivious to the side glances Ashley has been casting her way. It was the same looks she gave Jessica when she thought she wasn’t looking. 

 

Ashley leads the way back to Emily’s Jeep when they’ve finished up. Ashley had changed into one of her new outfits after Emily had begged her for a solid ten minutes, and Emily can’t keep her eyes off her. The black top hugs her curves, and the skirt shows off Ashley’s unshaven, but toned legs. She isn’t watching where she’s going as she steps off the curb and trips. 

 

She catches herself on her hands before she face plants into the concrete, standing up swiftly and brushing herself off. She catches a tiny smirk spread across Ashley’s face as they continue their trek to the car. 

 

“What are you smiling about?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Ash.”

 

Emily hops up into her car and turns the keys in the ignition. She drives the usual route to her house and turns the radio up. Ashley beams at the song choice and turns up the radio. 

 

“I love this song!”

 

She sings along loudly and off-key. With anyone else, Emily would bitch at them to stop. 

 

But not with Ashley. It’s cute. 

 

She slows to a stop at a red light, eyes glued to Ashley as she tries and fails to hit the high note. 

 

Before she knows it, she’s leaning over the center console and kissing Ashley. 

 

The kiss is awkward and rushed. Emily bumps her nose hard against Ashley’s, causing them both to part from the pain. 

 

They stare at one another for a century. 

 

“I-,” Emily starts, but Ashley doesn’t let her finish. She kisses Emily, softer and more passionate than the first. 

 

Cars behind them begin to lay on their horns as the light turns green. 

 

Emily flips them the finger. 

 

They pull apart reluctantly. Emily couldn’t wipe the smile off her face if she tried. 

 

“You were right.”

 

Emily raises an eyebrow. 

 

“About what?”

 

“I’m in love with you.”

 

Emily rests her hand on the center console. Ashley weaves her fingers in Em’s and squeezes her hand. 

 

“Me too. I’m sorry,” Emily jokingly responds, causing Ashley to snort with laughter. 

 

“I forgive you, dork.”

 

They kiss again at the next stoplight. 

 

It becomes a common occurrence.

**Author's Note:**

> please review,,,,please,,,


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